


Christmas at Winterfell

by novera_nope



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Out of Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 11:45:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13007103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novera_nope/pseuds/novera_nope
Summary: A Winterfell Christmas party, with charmed mistletoe.





	Christmas at Winterfell

Christmas time in Winterfell was a magical experience, Tyrion realized before he'd even poured his first goblet of wine of the evening. 

The great hall, which had always struck him as particularly gloomy, was almost unrecognizable: the large, stone walls were adorned with christmas decorations, countless chandeliers were shedding their soft candlelight onto the guests, and the smell of food and Christmas trees hung heavily in the air. Next to the dais where the queen and Jon Snow were seated, a band was playing the most sappy Christmas songs Tyrion had ever been subjected to. 

Maybe it was time for that wine, after all, he decided – promptly putting his money where his mouth was. 

But no, it wasn't a bad idea to hold a feast at this point, he had to admit, taking a long gulp. It was a welcome distraction for their men, who'd been bad-tempered and nervous for some time now. The constant threat of the Wight Walkers was weighing on them – Tyrion realized that all too well, and he supposed Daenerys and Jon did, too. 

Tonight though, people seemed to have forgotten about Winter, about the Walkers, about the fact that their lives were probably going to end sooner rather than later. Even his brother seemed to be in the Christmas spirit, which was a sight Tyrion had never seen before as their father had never been prone to celebrate the occasion. Or any occasion, for that matter. 

Tonight, people were eating and drinking, laughing, _forgetting_ – if only for a short while. It was only normal that he joined them, no? He went to refill his goblet. 

***

“What on _earth_ is that?” Daenerys exclaimed, pointing to something floating above Samwell Tarly's head. 

Jon's eyes looked up from his stew-filled plate, following the direction of her finger. “Oh, that?” he laughed with his mouth full when he'd noticed the small object that she'd indicated. “That's the charmed mistletoe.”

When Daenerys raised an eyebrow in question, he quickly swallowed his food. “It's something Melisandre did while she was at Winterfell. She already claimed back then to see bad things coming our way, and she deemed it necessary to add something extra to the Christmas feast, 'as there would be a point where we could certainly use the entertainment'”. He took a sip of his wine. “Her words, not mine.”

Daenerys nodded, seemingly intrigued. “What does it do?” she asked. 

“Well, I haven't been around enough to see how it actually works,” Jon answered, taking her hand in his. “But Melisandre told me it's charmed to keep floating above a random man's head until he's received a kiss from the woman he truly desires.”

At that point, they saw Gilly shyly planting a kiss on Sam's lips. The crowd cheered and promptly, the sprig drifted trough the room to take place above Tormund's head. 

“Well, it seems that's what it does, indeed,” Daenerys remarked dryly. 

Jon burst out laughing. “Indeed. Poor Brienne.” 

***

“Your turn!” Brienne felt someone bump her shoulder. When she looked up, both Sansa and Arya were looking at here with compassion in their eyes. “You're going to have to kiss him, you know."

She didn't even have to look up to realize what had happened. “It's Tormund, right?”

Both sisters burst out laughing. “You can't leave it hanging there for the rest of the night, you know,” Sansa snickered. “Better get it over with.”

Brienne rolled her eyes, but she started moving through the crowd anyway, not missing the way Jaime's lips pursed in disapproval from where he was standing with his brother. Tyrion seemed rather inebriated already, she fleetingly noticed. 

As she reached Tormund, the giant was looking ecstatic, grunting something she didn't quite understand. She quickly pecked his lips with her own, before returning to the Stark sisters without looking back, not ready to see the disappointment that would probably be written all over his face. 

Sansa was smiling widely at her, while Arya was looking faintly disgusted. “At least you're done for tonight, now,” the younger sister reassured her, noticing the sour look on her face. 

“By the gods,” Sansa suddenly whispered. “It's gone to Jaime Lannister, of all people.”

Both Brienne and Arya's heads snapped up towards him. Indeed, the mistletoe was hanging above his head tauntingly. 

“That's kind of – cruel, no?” Sansa continued. “I mean, we all know the person he desires is not even in Winterfell, if the rumours are true. Not unless Cersei's decided to keep her promise after all and is going to march in here any second.”

Brienne's heart skipped a beat at that, but she quickly recovered. “I doubt that,” she said sharply. 

She must have given something away, for Sansa looked at her inquisitively. Damn the girl for always being so bloody perceptive. “Brienne. Is there something you're not telling us?” she probed. 

“No,” Brienne mumbled. 

“Well then, maybe _I_ ought to give it a shot. He _is_ rather handsome, don't you think?” Sansa offered, gloating. 

“ _No_!” both Brienne and Arya exclaimed at the same time. 

“Sis, yuck!” Arya yawped. “He's so... old!”

“You can't!” Brienne shouted at the same time. 

Sansa's face lit up instantly. “I can't? Why is that, Brienne? And why is Jaime Lannister looking at you right now?”

“I have no idea,” Brienne said weakly, looking up to see that Jaime's eyes were, indeed, boring into hers. She quickly looked away. 

***

The moment people started pointing in his vague direction, alarm bells had started ringing in Jaime's head. Surely that stupid thing hadn't... He looked up, only to see the mistletoe floating there innocently. 

_Oh, bollocks_. 

He'd always been very secretive about his relationships – more out of necessity than choice – but it seemed that now, he was running out of options. Well, surely, Brienne would come and save him soon, as she'd done with the giant, and surely the stupid sprig would then make someone else the talk of the evening. 

It took him about ten agonizing minutes to realize that no, Brienne wasn't coming to his rescue at all. She just stood there in the back of the room, talking to the Stark sisters, laughing, completely ignoring him. 

It annoyed him to no end and at some point, he just couldn't help making his way through the crowd, towards her, very aware of the mistletoe following him. 

“What are you doing?” he hissed in her ear once he'd gotten to her, ignoring the way the Stark sisters were staring at him. “You're willing to save that ludicrous giant, but not me?”

Brienne turned towards him, looking puzzled. “But you –" She lowered her voice. “You said you didn't want to make to make our relationship public, Jaime. I thought –"

Jaime sighed exasperatedly. “There's _mistletoe_ floating above my head, Brienne. Please, make it go away. Fuck it if they all know I love you.”

“You love me?” Brienne breathed, her eyes wide. 

“You _love_ her?” Sansa all but yelled. In a radius of approximately 3 meters around them, every conversation abruptly halted. 

Jaime took a step towards Brienne, completely ignoring the looks people were throwing their way. “Of course I love you, wench.” His green eyes met hers. “It took me a while to realize it, but by the gods, I swear I love you.”

When Brienne kissed him, it wasn't just a peck on the lips. There were tongues involved, and somewhere in the back of her mind she thought that this kind of kiss was probably considered indecent in such a public place, but she couldn't care less. 

They parted with some difficulty, not even noticing the fact that the mistletoe had now decided to flow above Jon's head. 

“Want to leave?” Jaime asked suggestively. His eyes were positively sparkling. 

***

As Tyrion saw his brother leave the hall with Brienne in great haste, he couldn't help but smile, emptying his goblet once more in the process. 

_Christmas at Winterfell was a magical experience, indeed._

**Author's Note:**

> I needed a break from all the drama from Golden hands, and this is what came out. Yeah. Well. :)


End file.
